


Solace

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Gadreel share a tender (albeit angsty) moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> This is my February entry for the [ SPN Rare OTP Fic a Month Challenge.](http://otpfic-a-month.livejournal.com/%22) February's prompt was 'romance.'

It has taken time and a lot of patience to get this far. While Gadreel’s wings will never gain back he splendor they once had when he was still Eden’s gatekeeper, they’re not longer the charred and tattered ruins they had been after the Fall. New feathers are growing in to replace the burn and the broken, and the few that had remained intact are gradually being revitalized.

 

Much of the recovery is owed to Sam’s persistence in maintaining a regular grooming schedule, and not once has he shied away from the task, even in the face of extensive scabs and scarring. Instead, he’d worked hard to learn the best way to coax oil from Gadreel’s damaged glands and how to spread it over flesh and feather to obtain full effect.

 

Millenia had passed since anyone touched Gadreel with such tenderness. The earliest grooming sessions were short; too much of the tissue was raw to the touch and Gadreel’s emotions were not much better. Normally, only an angel’s most trusted siblings were allowed to groom their wings, and, despite his best attempts, it was difficult for the angel to cope with such a visceral reminder of all that he had lost.

 

However, as his relationship with Sam grew, so did his willingness to allow the man to care for his wings. And Sam had proven himself worthy of the task tenfold. He’d helped Gadreel through the pain and shame that his ruined wings caused him, coaxing him into talking about his experiences and emotions rather than shoving them aside as he had been. Those feelings were whisked away, replaced with fragile hope and faint pride; at least now his wings were full and healed enough to provide a modicum of protection to them both.

 

Gadreel particularly revelled in their recovery on mornings such as this one. He has Sam sprawled warm and heavy on top of him, sleepily trailing the fingers of one hand through the feathers just above Gadreel’s shoulder. His wings are arched over them, creating a slightly warmer and darker cocoon in the room; he feels safer and more cared for than he thought he would ever feel again.

 

Sam’s skin is marvellously soft under Gadreel’s hands as he traces slow circles over the man’s back. He wonders if Sam will drift back off to sleep, although the movement of Sam’s fingers through his feathers never falters. It is early, still, and the entire day lays before them; there are no hunts waiting, no errands to run or brothers to aid. Honestly, spending a day lounging in bed with Sam sounds like the best thing he could possibly ask for. Sighing contentedly, Gadreel nuzzles his face against Sam’s hair, breathing the scent of him in.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gadreel’s skin is cool and his grace thrums like an electric current just beneath the surface. It should remind Sam of the cage and of Lucifer. Gadreel should remind Sam that he can’t trust his own mind, that any of what he’s experiencing is real.

 

It doesn’t.

 

He doesn’t.

 

There’s no way Sam could have dreamed this for himself. He wouldn’t dare, because, oftentimes, Sam still feels like this unclean thing on the inside, hardly worthy of the measures the others have taken to save him after the trials. Unworthy of being held in such high regard by any angel, or held with such care.

 

A slight tingle runs up his arm as he runs his fingers through Gadreel’s feathers, the faint charge of grace in them like static electricity. Some of the feathers are brand new, downy-soft and white; others a little longer, firmer, and a shimmery white-gold; and the oldest are slightly brittle with age and wear, inky from end to end. Black dots itself heavily among gold and white, creating a patchwork of color across the vast expanse of wing, and there are patches of shiny pink scar tissue that show through the less-feathered places.

 

His angel’s wings are beautiful. It was a slow process of recovery, of trial and error, but Sam thinks the grooming and healing of the angel’s wings had added something special to their relationship. It was an honor to know Gadreel trusted him that much, and had gone a long way to healing more of the hurt that had lingered between them, even after they’d started their relationship. Now, Sam treasured every moment he got to see and touch his angel’s wings.

 

“I love you,” Sam murmurs, lips dragging a little on Gadreel’s skin. He can feel the hitch of breath, and the way the hand that had been stroking over his back hesitates a little before continuing its course.

 

“I love you as well, Sam,” Gadreel intones seriously.

 

Frowning, Sam tilts his face up to meet the angel’s eyes. “Really,” he says softly. “I love you.” Sam pushes himself up enough to brush their lips together. He hums happily, smiling a little into the kiss when Gadreel mimics the sound. “I don’t want to get up,” Sam murmurs.

 

“Then stay. There is no work to be done and no place to be,” Gadreel replies. “Truth be told, I was contemplating how much I would like to spend today right here with you.”

 

Sam is grateful for the low light of the room, feeling his cheeks heat and he ducks his face shyly against Gadreel’s neck. The warm flutter of pleasure in his chest at the angel’s words is something he hasn’t felt in a very long time, maybe even since Jess. He lays there for a moment more, just breathing in the rain and musk scent of Gadreel before mischievously nipping at the tender skin of his neck.

 

“I think I know how we can spend some of that time.”

 

Gadreel chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest below Sam. He spreads his legs enough that Sam sinks between them, bringing their bodies even closer together. Above them, feathers rustle as his wings twitch in response to Sam’s teasing nips and tender kisses.

  
  



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